Child of death
by KazeRogue
Summary: To save this world from a dark evil, the Visioner must find the elemental children and ultimately the child of death to fight for it's salvation
1. Prologue

Child of death  
  
by KazeRogue  
  
  
Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine, though this story takes place in an alternate universe and their roles are consequently altered from the Marvel Universe. That means the story itself is mine though I have to admit I was inspired by Roguestar's 'Horse of another color' to write some kinda fairy tale. But as the title indicates, it's a rather dark one...  
As always, excuse my English, I'm trying...  
  
This story is dedicated to Michi-chan aka Nicole Seska M. Hope you're happy now, gal, you finally get your dedication... :)  
  
Child of death  
Prologue:  
  
  
Remy LeBeau roamed the market place searching for an opportunity to get him something to eat. He has 'relieved' some of the richer men - the few that were left these days - of their purses but he didn't dare to pull them out to buy some food. Besides, why pay for something you can easily steal? He pulled a bit at the scarf he was blindfolded with to look at his surroundings secretly. The people on the market paid him no attention. For them, he was just another blind beggar in rags - one of the many these days - ignorant to the fact that he wore the scarf to hide his unusual red-on-black eyes. This abnormality had been reason enough for his parents to abandon him as child. He had no problems with either of that. Being different was okay, he even liked it, even if he had too hide from others. And life on the streets wasn't bad either, if you're one of the best thieves this world ever saw. And if you don't get involved in anything. That was his basic principle, to keep his butt out of anything dangerous. Of course he sympathized with the rebellion - who didn't? - but he was too much a realist to join it. Lord Lehnsherr's tyranny wasn't a thing he was too happy with, but he knew about the strength of his troops. And he worshipped his life and his freedom too high to mess with them. That didn't mean he was a coward, actually, he had already messed with them, but in a different way, not in direct confrontations. He was an outlaw, a thief, but he never stole from soldiers and as long as he stayed unpolitical, he was of no interest to them.  
  
He peeked over the scarf and grabbed an apple at the first opportunity and hid it in the pockets of his shabby coat. He turned right to leave the market place and started to eat his prey.  
Suddenly, he heard yelling, only a few yards away. His curiosity was stronger than his instinct to keep out of trouble and he headed towards the source of the rumble. He saw a boy, about 14 years old and in rags, running away from a bunch of Lehnsherr's soldiers. The boy carried a loaf of bread and some apples. Desperately he dropped the food and turned left into a dark alley to save at least himself if not the food he obviously needed urgently.   
  
*Dat little fool, dat's a blind alley! Shouldn't be fleein' in streets where he don' know his way!* Remy thought, feeling sympathy for the little thief. The soldiers already ran into the alley and cornered the boy who desperately tried to climb over the brick wall that held him captive. When he saw that Lord Lehnsherr's soldiers had catched up, he gave up his flight and prepared to fight his superior opponents. As Remy approached the group, he couldn't help but admire the boy's courage.  
  
"Excuse me, messieurs, may I ask what's going on 'ere?" he asked, pretending to have no clue.  
  
"Go away, blind boy. That's none of your business. We're just arresting a little street rat" one of the soldiers replied.  
  
"Oh, I see. It's good to know you people care for our security. May I ask which crimes he committed?" Remy moved slowly closer to the boy, checking the floor with his staff as he did so.  
  
"He has stolen bread and apples. We will take him to the prison."  
  
"No, no ya won't."  
  
Before the soldiers could do anything, Remy had swirled around his staff to throw them off balance and grabbed the boy. He helped him over the brick wall and then followed him quickly.  
The boy was still exhausted, so Remy took him to the nearest hiding place he knew, a back alley, where even the soldiers wouldn't go voluntarily. The boy leaned against a wall panting and Remy had finally the chance to look at him properly. He was about 14 years old, tall and thin. Remy wondered how he had survived till now, everybody could beat up this weakling. But then he remembered the fire he had seen in his eyes when he had countered the soldiers and thought that he could scare people with this look. The boy had unruly reddish brown hair, like Remy, and wore a large brown cap, that covered most of his head and forehead.  
When the boy's breathing had returned to normal, Remy talked to him, trying to put on a severe look.  
  
"'ave ya really stolen apples?" he asked.  
  
The boy looked up at him, a wide grin spread over his face.  
"Thousands!"  
  
Then, he jumped over a little wall and was gone. Remy sighed and turned around to go back to town.  
  
"Hey!" Remy jerked around to see the boy standing on the wall.  
"Before ya go back, don't forget your scarf, red-eye!" He grinned at Remy and disappeared again.  
Remy looked at the scarf he had removed while their flight and nearly forgotten, swearing.  
  
***********  
  
Great! Now he had broken his own rules and messed with the authority just because of this damned little brat. Maybe it was the best if he went underground for a while, until the incident - and he himself - was forgotten. He would go into the forest and get his food from the people in the little farms and houses there. He would steal if he couldn't beg. But that shouldn't be necessary. He had always been a lady's man and his charm could turn people really generous. The hookers had often granted him shelter for the night without demanding anything. Maybe because he - different from the prude population of the village - treated them like normal persons and not like dirty whores. He knew that they did what they had to do to survive since Lord's Lehnsherr's oppression had been too much for their families to bear. And the mighty Lord's acolytes - the only ones who could afford a night in the brothel - had needs, too. Remy had always sympathized with the weaker parts of society, maybe the only reason he had helped the boy, but he also knew that sympathy could be dangerous. It was better to stay alone, just look after oneself and mess with nobody stronger than oneself. Having friends was okay and even necessary these days, but your own safety and luck should always be your first concern.   
And now, Remy had risked that because of a little street rat. Not very clever. But he was willing to do the best of his situation and fleeing into the woods was the first step.  
  
"Wonderful, really wonderful!" Remy muttered to himself. He had lived on the streets his whole life and now he was roaming a forest... The people who lived here hadn't much he could steal and he was getting really hungry.   
Then, as if God was laughing about his misery, he had found a "wanted" circular of him at one of the farmhouses. Obviously, the leader of the soldiers he had encountered was a rather important guy in the troops, Captain Creed's right hand. And the petty thief Remy LeBeau, too dumb to mind his own business, was wanted dead or alive for hurting the male ego of a Lord's acolyte. Now he could forget the idea of ever returning to the village. Really wonderful. His stomach grumbled and Remy decided that it was time to get some food. He followed the next human trails he found and arrived at a little cottage right in the middle of the forest. Smoke came out of the chimney and Remy guessed that the occupant was at home. He sneaked up to a window and peeked inside. A woman stood inside cooking. She was small, round and of African origin. She wore strange clothes and pearls were braided in her curled black hair. But Remy's attention was focussed on the saucepan on the fire place. His stomach grumbled again but before he could decide what to do, he heard the voice of the woman.  
  
"Are you going to stay out there hungry or do you prefer coming inside and eat with me?" she asked.  
  
Remy blushed , partly of embarrassement and partly of anger because he had been detected. He had the reputation to be able to move like a cat, unnoticed if he wanted. He definitely had to work on this!  
  
"Don't worry, chile. It's not very easy to sneak up on me. You nearly made it, Visioner." she said as she opened the door for him. He entered the cottage and saw that she had laid the table for two persons.  
  
"I expected you, Visioner. In fact, I've waited for you a long time." she commented his confused glance.  
  
"Why do ya always call me dat name, Visioner?" he asked.  
  
"Because of the sign of vision you've got, your eyes." she smiled at him.  
  
Remy jerked up. He had forgotten his scarf! But the woman didn't seem to be shocked or afraid, so he calmed down.  
  
"Well, normally people call me demon or freak, not Visioner, when dey see my eyes."  
  
She smiled at him sympathetically.  
  
"They're so ignorant. But I know who you are. And I've awaited your arrival."  
  
Remy didn't know what to do. On the one hand, this woman seemed to be very strange, even crazy and normally he would have left by now, but on the other hand, he was more than hungry, he was starving.  
The old woman laughed when she saw the skeptical look on his face. It was a rich and engaging laugh and Remy ended up liking her.   
  
"I'm sorry, chile. I must have scared you of completely with my chatter. Please sit down. You look hungry."  
  
Remy ate the humble meal with the hunger of a man who hasn't eaten for days. The black woman sat down and smiled, too.  
  
"I'm glad you like it."  
  
Remy looked up and murmured something affirmativ while chewing.  
  
"My name is Mattie." she introduced herself.  
He looked up again and swallowed.  
  
"Remy LeBeau."  
They smiled at each other and shook hands.  
  
"Why d'ya live out 'ere alone?" Remy asked between two bites.  
Mattie leaned back in her chair and started her story.  
  
"Well, I played many roles in my life. I've always been an outsider because of the color of my skin. My people thought of me as a healer, a child of nature, but the people here feared me, they called me witch. Maybe I'm some kind of sorceress, but not in the sense people think of them today. Now, I'm called 'wise woman', but I don't think I'm wise just because I know of the legends."  
  
"The legends?" Remy asked  
  
"Yes, the legends. The legends about the children, the legends about the salvation or destruction and the legends about you, Remy."  
  
"'Bout me?"  
  
"Yes. I will tell you the story. Once, the evil invaded the world and threatened it's very existence. But there were people, women, with special powers, the children. The children had inherited the powers of nature, the elements. They encountered the evil with all their might, but finally, they needed help. It was then that the last child woke up, the one who was to bring destruction. This child, the child of death, was the strongest and the most feared one. But it was the last hope mankind had, and finally, it defeated the evil. But even the other children were afraid of the child of death. It's dark origin and destructive power scared them to death. So they combined their powers to lull it to sleep. Even their combined power wasn't enough to kill it and lulling it to sleep was only possible because the child of death has been willing to fall asleep. For there's something very few people know about the children. The nature in it's essence is neutral, unbiased. It's neither good nor bad. For example, you need water to live, but it can kill you in a flood. The same goes for the other elements. And for the death. Many people think that the death is bad or evil because it takes your loved ones from you, but it's as neutral as everything else in nature. But the last child understood that it was feared and gave it's earthly life voluntarily while it's spirit fell asleep.  
  
But the other children knew that there may be need for the child of death's strength someday in the future. That's why they called the Visioner in existence, the only one who could find the last child if it was needed. Like the Children, the Visioner is reborn in every generation, but while the elementary children keep their spirits and the memories of their many lives, he is 'asleep', like the child of death. That means he is reborn with the potential of using the powers of the Visioner if there's need for the last child."  
  
Remy had listened like spellbound and now slowly refound his ability of speech.  
  
"An' ya t'ink I'm dat Visioner in dis generation?" he asked incredulously.  
  
Without an answer, Mattie stood up and left the room. A few seconds later she returned smiling, a scroll in her hand. She unfolded the centuries old document and started to read it aloud.  
  
"...and when the child of death is needed, the Visioner will be reborn with the sign of sight, glowing eyes."  
Mattie showed him the paper so that he could see the drawing of a face on it. It was the face of a man. With red-on-black eyes.  
  
They had spoken for hours. Mattie had explained Remy the whole legend and his role as Visioner. He had read all the stories and legends of him Mattie had stored, and now he was as tired as if he hadn't slept for days.  
He laid on the bed Mattie had prepared for him and thought about the sudden change in his life. If the documents told the truth, he had special powers, too. He had a natural agility, a born warrior, but Remy couldn't confirm this for sure. He tried to avoid physical confrontations as best as he could. One of his other powers was to look straight into one's heart and soul, he couldn't be lied to or fooled that easily. It seemed he could force his will upon others and his success in charming people confirmed that. But the strangest thing he had read about the Visioner, was that energy thing. He could make things explode just by touching them. Remy had never experienced such kind of power in his life and he just couldn't believe that he should be able to do that.   
  
He sighed and closed his eyes. The following day he would leave to search the elementary children, who guarded the key to the last child. Every one of the first four children kept two verses of a poem, that would lead the Visioner to the child of death.  
Suddenly something came to Remy's mind, something he hadn't thought about before. He jerked up and called for Mattie. Almost immediately, the wise woman rushed into the room.  
  
"What's wrong, chile?"  
  
"Mattie, ya told me dat de last child is jus' needed if de world is menaced by evil. But Lord Lehnsherr, as cruel as 'is tyranny may be, ain't evil 'nough to bring up the arrival of such a power."  
Mattie smiled sadly  
  
"Yes, I know, but I'm afraid the Lord dealt with black magic, dark powers he didn't understand. And now, the evil he called awoke and the child of death is our last hope."  
Remy cupped his chin in his hand.  
  
"I'm jus' a petty t'ief. I don' t'ink I'm a good rebel. I've always jus' minded my own business. Dat t'ing's too big for me."  
Mattie looked at him sympathetically  
  
"You are not to fight the Lord or that dark force, that's the job of the children. Now go to bed. You have to leave early tomorrow."  
  
  
  
  
Remy walked through the forest on his way to the first child, the child of wind. The food Mattie had given him would last for a few days and Remy hoped he would have found the first child by then. He took out an old book Mattie had given him that dealt with the legend of the Visioner. He still felt uncomfortable with that role, but the proves Mattie had shown him, especially the drawing of the man with red-on-black eyes, made him believe her. At least he wouldn't have to fight. He would find the last child and wake it up, the rest was the job of the children and he would go on with his life. He felt no intention to encounter Lord Lehnsherr's soldiers again.  
  
He opened the book at the chapter that treated the powers of the Visioner. Remy already knew about that ability to truly see and the one to charm, but that 'charging to explode' power interested him. It seemed that the Visioner could only use this power to protect the last child. But he could train it by concentrating on objects and their natural energy and trying to charge them. They just wouldn't explode in training. Remy couldn't help being fascinated by that power.  
But the task at hand was to find the first child, the wind's one. Remy remembered the route Mattie had described him and continued his voyage.  
  
  
ending of Prologue  
  
to be continued in chapter one 


	2. Child of wind

  
CHILD OF DEATH  
  
by KazeRogue (KazeRogue@hotmail.com)  
  
  
Chapter one - Child of wind   
  
  
  
Victor Creed angrily slammed his fist against the wall.  
  
"That damned rotten son of a bitch" he muttered under his breath.  
  
"Creed?" he heard the voice of the high Lord yelling through the hallways. Still muttering he headed towards the thronehall.  
  
Lord Lehnsherr sat on his throne made of bones, his hands resting on the skulls of former opponents. Now there weren't any worthy opponents left to add their bones to the symbol of Lehnsherr's power.  
  
These so-called rebels weren't any more annoying than flies. Creed's soldiers were more than capable to deal with every problem occuring. Normally.  
  
"I heard there was trouble in town?"  
  
The voice of the high Lord rolled like thunder through the hall and even Creed felt a bit intimidated by the absolute presence of Lehnsherr. As if the air itself was crackling with it.  
  
Lehnsherr was a born leader, but not in a democratic sense. Sure, there were people who shared his oppinions and followed him voluntarily, but most were simply afraid.  
  
Lehnsherr's steel-like eyes met Creed's and the Captain of the high Lord's guards knew instantly that hiding something from his Lord was impossible.  
  
"Just a little street rat who tried to steel something. He could escape with the aid of a stranger."  
  
"A stranger?" Lehnsherr raised an eyebrow questioningly.  
  
"A blind beggar" Creed hissed.  
  
"Your soldiers weren't able to handle a street rat and a blind beggar? Who led this unit?"  
  
"The young Summers, one of my best soldiers."  
  
"And he was defeated by a blind beggar?" The voice of the high Lord became slightly menacing.  
  
"He was a good fighter. A trained warrior. Maybe a spy of the rebels."  
  
"And maybe you should attend to this business yourself and not your minors!"  
  
Creed was surprised. he was surely not too happy with this incident, but he wouldn't have thought it that important. But obediently he bowed to his master and left the hall.  
  
A faint laughter behind the curtain gave evidence of approval.  
  
  
**************************  
  
  
Remy was freezing. He couldn't believe that there were places as cold as the one he was wandering through. Despite the little pieces of ice that flew into his face he dared opening his eyes to look at his surroundings. He almost couldn't see anything because of the icy hurricane that was tearing at him with an unbelievable force. But then he detected the glacier at the horizon.  
  
*An appropriate place fer de wind's child* Remy thought sarcastically.  
  
He had neither heard nor imagined that there would be glaciers in this area, but it seemed no normal human being had been here before, to tell of it's existence.   
  
The first child wasn't easily found. If it hadn't been for Mattie's description, even he would never have detected the cave and even less it's hidden exit that led into this antarctic desert.   
  
He sighed and wrapped his coat tighter around his body. It was as if the weather itself was fighting him to prevent him from finding the first child. Well, then he would show this hurricane that Remy LeBeau, the best thief in the world and recently proclaimed Visioner of this generation, wasn't that easily defeated.  
  
  
***************************************+  
  
  
Remy LeBeau, the best thief in the world and recently proclaimed Visioner of this generation laid face down in the snow and was freezing to death.  
  
*A rather unglamorous end of my short trip to de side of de angels* he thought and a wry smile appeared on his blue lips.  
  
He was too weak to even tremble as the remorseless cold envelopped his body. So this was the end. He wondered how he got himself in such a mess. He should have stayed in his village and not get involved in all this world-saving crap.  
  
He was barely concious when he heard the music. It was the melody of a song, the sad song of a sad person. Hearing it was like dying and being reborn at the same time. The melody filled Remy's head and soon he only clinged to life to be able to hear it. He knew he would die if the music stopped. The tones carried him away and he couldn't feel the cold or the hurricane anymore.  
  
Then he heard a voice calling, very faint, but audible. Though he couldn't understand what the voice was saying, he knew instantly that it was calling for him.   
  
With great strain he managed to open his eyes. He was nearly blinded by the light that envelopped him and closed his eyes immediately. When he opened them again, this time much slower, he could see that the light was only at his left side. The right side was darker than the darkest night. And right in front of him stood a girl, the girl who had called for him.  
  
Remy held his breath, he had never seen someone like her before. She was beautiful and he knew that one could die just because of looking at her. But she also revived his spirits and he felt dead and more alive than ever in the same moment.   
  
The girl had a wing like an angel on the left side, spread into the light, and a wing like a demon, leather-like with claws at it's end, on the right side, barely visible in the darkness. The rest of her body was torn as well. While her left part was a mirror of childish innocence, her right side was a threatening seduction to darkness.  
  
Her face was hidden in the shadows so he couldn't make out her features, but he could see her eyes. Her right eye was a burning flame, like a window to hell and the pupil was shaped like the one of a snake or a dragon. Through her left eye he could see heaven instead. He couldn't describe it's color.  
  
Then he heard her voice again. It was dark, quiet and beautiful, the voice of someone who had seen and experienced too much.  
  
"Help me, Visioner, free me, or the world as you know it will die."  
  
Then she was gone.  
  
Suddenly Remy refound himself laying in the snow. Confused he looked around to see the glacier in front of him. Determined he gathered all the strength that was left in his body and stood up.  
  
Whatever he would do, he wouldn't disappoint the girl he had seen. Remy LeBeau, the best thief in the world and recently proclaimed Visioner of this generation fought the hurricane. He had a mission. And he wouldn't fail. Never.  
  
  
***************************************+  
  
  
Remy wrapped his arms around him to gain a little bit warmth. His gaze wandered to the glacier that rose in front of him. His fingers were stiff with coldness and he couldn't imagine how to climb with them. He hadn't even the proper tools.  
  
He sighed and grabbed his staff. He had to try it. At the foot of the glacier, climbing was rather easy and hopefully he wouldn't have to climb to it's top. Slowly and freezing he worked his way upwards.  
  
After two hours of constant climbing he came to the conclusion, that freezing to death wasn't that bad at all. The thought of having to climb another yard made him shiver.  
  
He had heard that just before you die of hypothermia, you feel warm again and Remy yearned for warmth. He had already forgotten the demonic angel he had sworn not to fail, the reason for his current troubles.  
  
He closed his eyes, embracing the delirious numbness that flooded his indifferent body. Something was happening. He could feel that through the clouds that had envelopped his mind.  
  
*Yeah, you moron, ya're dying* a voice in his mind yelled, a voice he barely recognized, the voice that belonged to Remy LeBeau, survival artist.  
  
He opened his eyes groggily only to see his fingers slip from the crevice on which he had found a hold. Terror filled his heart, but thanks to the adrenalin that rushed through his veins, he reacted fast enough and grabbed for another precipice.  
  
He breathed heavily when he was save again. Then he wondered why he had done this, cling to life. He had WANTED to die, or at least he had thought he did, since he hadn't had the will to go on anymore. But normally that wasn't his style, otherwise he wouldn't have survived till now.  
  
For the first time on his voyage Remy LeBeau realized how powerful his enemies were and how urgent the need to stop them.  
  
  
***************************  
  
  
"Damn!" Lord Lehnsherr yelled and threw the crystal ball to the opposite wall where it shattered into thousand pieces.  
  
"You said he wouldn't make it to the first child. You said your spell would stop him!"  
  
"I didn't know that his will to survive is that strong." The woman was calm, as if she didn't really care that her trap hadn't worked.   
  
She resembled a spider waiting for the fly to get caught in her net, self-secure and therefore patient.  
  
"I don't care how strong his will is. He must be terminated!" The high Lord was outraged.  
  
"We don't know for sure if he's really the one."  
  
"He's searching for the child of the wind, that's reason enough to be concerned!" the Lord bellowed and left the attic.  
  
A cruel smile appeared on the beautiful lips of the woman. She looked at her companion who stood silently by her side, a warrior she had formed for years.  
  
"Don't worry, my dear. I think I found the right measures to deal with this insect."  
  
  
********************************  
  
  
Remy LeBeau had seen many things in his life and he had faced them as the man he was, a rationalist. By the time he had come to think that nothing could surprise him anymore. Even his latest encounter with the unreasonable, him being the reborn Visioner, hadn't thrown him off balance, or at least turned speechless. But now he looked with wide eyes at the amazing thing that rose in front of him.  
  
The upper part of the glacier wasn't a glacier at all. It was a great ice crystal palace, as perfect and breathtakingly beautiful that one got the impression it was the home of a goddess.  
  
Remy finally remembered his mission and opened the large portals. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. Inside the world of ice was one of the most beautiful and liveliest gardens he had ever seen.  
Remy finally remembered his mission and opened the large gate. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. Inside the world of ice was the most beautiful and lively garden he had ever seen. He was surrounded by colors that were so different and beaming that he immediately felt pale in his grey and brown rags. Birds were singing in the trees and butterflies were flying around his head, not the slightest bit afraid of him.  
  
Suddenly Remy could distinguish another sound, the voice of a woman, humming her part of the garden's song. Remy followed this sound and found a beautiful woman kneeling on the floor and planting flowers in an empty field. She was tall and slender, with chocolate brown skin. Her amazingly white hair was barely visible below the large straw hat she wore. She also wore the simple robe of a peasant, coarse woven, but surprisingly white. Remy decided that she was the gardener of this palace and spoke to her:  
  
"Uhm, hello... I'm looking for de mistress of dis castle. Could ya please take me ta 'er?"  
  
The woman turned towards Remy and studied him, an amused twinkle in her eyes.  
  
"Welcome to the temple of the wind, stranger. Please follow me, I'll take you to the mistress."  
  
Remy followed the woman to the interior of the crystal palace and was overwhelmed by it's breathtaking miracles. The entrance hall was so high that he could barely see the ceiling that consisted of strangely shaped ice pieces that refracted the light and let the room beam in every color of the rainbow. The walls reflected the light so that Remy couldn't make out where one room ended and the next began. He felt like captivated in a labyrinth of mirrors, but it was an emprisonment he enjoyed. The woman led him to a room that was more magnifient than Remy could have ever imagined a king's room to be. There was a huge bed that seemed to be made of snow, but was comfortably warm in this icy castle.  
  
"You can rest a bit now, you seem exhausted. Dinner will be ready in an hour. I'll pick you up."  
  
The woman turned around to leave the room.  
  
"Wait! I have to talk to the child of wind immediately. It's important!" Remy yelled and held her back by her upper arm. The woman turned around again to face him, a mysterious smile on her face.  
  
"You'll meet her at dinner. Be patient."  
  
Then, she was gone.  
  
  
***************************  
  
  
Remy looked at the table in awe. He didn't know what he had expected when the woman - she had introduced herself as Ororo by now - had picked him up after what had seemed an eternity to him, but certainly not THIS! A dinner table of the purest, brilliant ice was prepared with a hot steaming meal on it, that didn't even melt a single drop from the icy furniture. For the next hour, Remy forgot his mission and the fact that he was supposed to meet the first child at dinner. The exhaustion of the previous days took it's toll and he fell upon the meal as if he hadn't eaten for days. After this very hour, a look at Ororo's smiling face reminded him of her mistress.  
  
"When will I meet the child of wind?" Remy asked after swallowing the last bit of his steak.   
  
Ororo still wore that unreadable smile when she answered: "Whenever you want, Remy."  
  
Of course, he wanted immediately and she led him into a huge hall. A throne of ice stood in the middle of it, nothing else. But even if, nobody would have noticed it because of this very throne's dominating presence and charisma. It looked so fragile that you were afraid to touch it, or even sit down on it, though it was huge. But it's legs and struts were as delicate as the rest of it. Directly above it was a lense shaped piece of ice in the ceiling, that refracted the light and made the throne stand in it's spotlight. The crystal chair refracted this light again and beamed beautifully in pastel colors. Remy, by now used to the castle's miracles, refound his speech quickly and asked for the first child, who he couldn't see anywhere.  
  
"I'm here" he heard Ororo say, and when he turned around to face her, he noticed that she had changed in a strange but beautiful way. Clouds and mist were all around her body, whirled by the wind that seemed to caress her like a lover. Her paysan clothing had changed into a silky dream of nearly nothing, that seemed to be made of rain. Her formaer blue eyes were glowing like lightning bolts and her white hair was ...a cloud?  
  
"You..." Remy whispered "you are the child of wind."  
  
"Yes, I am." Her warm smile cracked her goddessly grandeur for a moment.  
  
"Why haven't you told me?" Remy asked, his surprise - and of course her beauty - lessening his anger.  
  
"You haven't asked..." Her smile broadened into a grin and Remy relaxed at this sight. She may be an eons old world savior, subject of legends, with goddessly power, but she was still the woman he had come to like. You should never judge somebody by his/her looks...  
  
"Let's sit down" the first child suggested. "There's much I have to tell you, Visioner."  
  
  
*********************************************************  
  
  
Remy LeBeau was comfortable once again. Talking to the child of wind was pleasant and the palace was warm despite it's icy structure, obviously the effect of Ororo's caring for his well-being. In fact, she hadn't told him much he hadn't heard from Mattie as well, but her calm explanations made it somehow seem reasonable and he couldn't understand why he had quarreled with his fate before. The serene woman somehow made him believe and willing to fight in a battle that wasn't his own.  
  
"But it is your own" she said smiling.  
  
"Can ya read my t'oughts?" Remy asked surprised and a little bit ashamed. She laughed, a rich, warm sound.  
  
"No, but they were visible on your face. From what you told me about you I can understand how you must be feeling, being thrown into the cold water, your very identity turned inside out and you, in the center of events you've never imagined, burdened with a task you knew nothing about before. But I'll help you as much as I can."  
  
Remy smiled at her thankfully and motioned her to continue.  
  
"I was terrified when I first noticed you heading here. You see, the storm is there for my security, it was a kind of test you had to pass to come here. I had to be sure you were really the Visioner. Our enemies are trying their best to catch us off guard, we have to be careful. But my people have been watching you all along, they wouldn't have let you die. One time, they were really close to bring you to me, but you pulled through yourself.  
  
"Then, when I saw your eyes, the symbol that the child of death will be needed, I was horrified. Although the child of death is one of us, we all fear it. It may be our last hope, but our nemesis as well. It's not sure which side the last child will choose."  
  
That reminded Remy of something Mattie had said, something important, but he couldn't grasp it.   
  
"So you want me to stop searching for it?" he asked instead. Ororo pondered over that questions for a few seconds.  
  
"No," she finally said "the fact that you've been 'activated' indicates that we may need it. We, the elemental children, will do our best to prevent the evil from rising, but if we fail, you have to be ready. Find it, but, if possible, wait with waking it." Ororo looked at him sadly. "I just hope we will manage."  
  
"So do I, chère, so do I."  
  
  
*************************************************  
  
  
Remy grinned smugly. That was his thing! Being an important piece in a puzzle, surrounded by beautiful women and with nothing else to do but finding this child and bring it to the battleground. He wouldn't even have to fight himself, that was the task of the children, what was pretty fine with him. Nonetheless he would be considered as one of the heroes in case they succeded. The other alternative - well, he had pulled through situations much worse, and if not... he had nothing to blame himself for, he had lived his life to the fullest and there wasn't much he would miss.   
  
Nonetheless, he would play along for now, find the last child. Remy looked at the poem that Ororo had given him. At least the first two verses of a poem that had been shared out among the elemental children and gave clues about the last child. Legend said that only the Visioner would be able to understand the true sense of it, but when Remy skimmed the piece of paper in his hand, he doubted it would be of much use to him. It said:  
  
In a world of blind  
There's one who sees  
He'll bring the one  
And pain may ease  
  
It will be marked  
With innocence  
It will be death  
Or last defense  
  
Aaalriiight. Remy sighed. He just hoped the rest of the poem would be more useful than this. But he would see to the child of death after he had received all the clues from the first four children. Mattie had told him that it was senseless to search for it before. He would only be able to see the whole picture when he had all the pieces of the puzzle. So he tucked the paper away and started his journey to the child of fire.  
  
  
  
~ending chapter one~  
  
Note: Okay, okay, I know this one isn't the best of styles (hello rewrite...), I had little practice recently :(  
But stay tuned, I'll promise to try and do better next time. And the story hasn't even started ;)  
  
Disclaimer: The character's are Marvel's. 


	3. Child of fire

Disclaimer: the characters belong to Marvel and I'm not making any money by using them here. The universe in which this story takes place is mine though.

Notes: Sorry that it took me so long to write anything, this story in particular. the first half of this chapter was written spring 2003 and then I ran out of ideas ;) then I continued some in 2004, then a little in early 2005 and now finally the rest... So, I'm sorry if the style changes so abruptly in this chapter 0o But hey, I'm back in action! And I honed my writing in other fandoms (at least I hope so), so now you get the all improved KazeRogue (at least at the very end of this chapter...). And I intend to finish all my WIPs, promise!

As always many thanks to my dearest, scariest editor, especially since she had to edit this twice headdesk and had to suffer my utter ignorance of English grammar ;P

Child of death chapter 2 - child of fire

by Kaze

The woman looked at her handiwork, then took one of the blood red roses and moved it a bit to the right. Arranging the flowers, her accuracy was reminiscent of that needed when creating a spiderweb, as if she were a predator rather than a woman who decorated her room for aesthetic reasons. But she esteemed perfection in every part of her life, be it her rooms, her work or her appearance.

Without a preceding knock, her door was opened and she heard heavy footsteps. She didn't have to turn to see that it was the highlord again.

"Have you heard of your protegée yet," he asked, not bothering with a greeting.

"Not yet" she answered, a smile turning her amazingly beautiful face even more irresistible.

"That doesn't seem to bother you in the slightest!" The Lord yelled at her, untouched by her beauty. She was as untouched by his anger and buried her face in the roses she was carrying, deep inhaling their scent, still smiling. As she answered though, her voice was as cold as ice.

"No, it doesn't. I know about my trainee's abilities and I have faith in them."

The Highlord sighed, not having any other possibility but trusting her judgement in this case for now. If she failed, he'd have three heads instead of only the Visioner's.

"Fine then, what about the other one?"

The woman's smile widened.

"It is being dealt with at this very moment."

Remy LeBeau was so bored. Okay, maybe he had said that he was happy that he could stay out of the fight and thus the real action, but calling this a mission was ridiculous. For three days, he had only seen grass and trees and stones and more trees. Not to forget the blisters on his soles. And more trees. If only there had been somebody to talk to. Slowly, he even wished his enemies to show up and try another one of their tricks on him again, just for the distraction. When his thoughts had arrived at this point he heard the hounds' wild barking.

"Me and my big mouth..." he said while running to the chasm from where the sounds emanated to see how big his lead was. When he looked down from his elevated position, he was surprised to see that the hounds and the soldiers following them weren't looking for him. They were hunting down a kid that was running for its life, but had no chance of escaping dogs trained in the Highlord's kennels.

Remy's eyes followed the path in front of the boy and sucked in a breath. The crevice would end in front of a stone wall too high to climb soon! He swore under his breath. He was no hero, but he had once seen a man being torn apart by these hounds just because he had dared to steal from their master, a lieutenant from Lehnsherr's troops, which really was not a sight he'd like to repeat.

As fast as he could he ran parallel to the kid towards the end of the crevice and unrolled the rope that Ororo had given him to complete the proper wandering equipment. When the kid couldn't run any further and tried desperately to climb up the even rock face, he tied one end of the rope around a tree and threw the other end down to the kid, which took it quickly and climbed up with astonishing ease.

After he had packed away his rope again, he urged the kid on his feet.

"Quick now, they won't take long to find another way up here." He winced at the deafening sound of the hounds barking after their lost prey.

"Then we should get going, red-eye." Amazed, Remy turned to see a panting but familiar face in front of his.

"The apple thief," he sighed resignedly.

It was unfair. He was supposed to be the hero, the savior of little apple thieves in peril - though he'd prefer a damsel in distress anytime - and here he was following the orders of a dirty street rat brat. But even though he hated to admit it, things were better since he had met the boy. Being a native to the streets of the biggest town in the country, there was little he knew about trivial skills like making a fire - at least in less than twenty minutes, his personal record even with the flintstones Ororo had given him - or knowing which plant was edible or even tasty. At least now, considering his food hadn't been planned to last for two persons.

So he did what the brat told him, hard as it may be, while the kid took care of the rest. They hadn't had the chance to talk yet, needing all their breath to flee through the deepest woods and rivers to get the hounds off their trail. But now, in front of a warming fire, it was time for answers.

"So, why were the soldiers after you," Remy asked when they'd sit down to eat.

"Creed doesn't take kindly if you escape him," the boy shrugged, stuffing a large slice of bread into his mouth.

"You really wanna tell me that they sent an army and the best hounds after you just because you pissed off Creed," Remy asked, his natural suspicion kicking in.

The boy looked up, a serious expression on his young face. "They weren't looking for me."

"Oh," Remy answered and it was the last thing he said for a long time.

"What's your name," Remy asked when they started walking again. They had agreed that they'd stay together for now, because the boy's survival skills and Remy's superior height and strength made a perfect fit. And he couldn't keep calling the boy 'brat' or 'apple thief', could he?

"Rogue" the boy muttered without looking up.

"That's not a name," Remy snorted.

"Well, it's the only one I have!" Rogue jumped up and stomped away, eyes blazing.

A few moments later, Remy had caught up.

"Hey, if I said something wrong, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you."

Rogue looked up and for a brief instant Remy could see a pain in his eyes that betrayed a depth in his his character that contradicted his smart-ass remarks and devil-may-care attitude - something that reminded him of himself. But the moment passed and Rogue's expression was blank when he told his story:

"I don't know my real name. My foster mother found me when I was an infant, my real parents seem to be dead. With her people, it's habit to name children after their character traits. She found Rogue appropriate. I owe her my life - several times. She taught me how to survive, like making a fire or finding soemthing to eat," he added with a smirk to Remy.

"It's a shame she didn't teach you how to defeat Lehnsherr's soldiers all by yourself," Remy shot back. A second later, he found himself sprawled on the floor, Rogue's foot resting on his chest.

"A real pity I can't handle myself," he said with an even voice, moved away his foot and turned to walk as if nothing had happened.

"I noticed," Remy muttered under his breath while standing up. Rubbing his aching backside, he followed the boy that had already disappeared into the woods.

"Do you really think this is such a good idea," Rogue asked frowning. "If you're playing such a big role in the fate of the world, Lehnsherr will have his soldiers all over the country looking for you."

Remy shrugged. Since they had decided to travel together for now, he had told Rogue the whole story about the children and the Visioner. The boy had a right to know what he was getting himself into if he stuck by his side. Not that Remy had the impression that Rogue believed a single word of his story...

"I've been on the road for what seems like a lifetime. I want normal food and a room with a roof to sleep in," he answered somewhat belatedly.

"But a pub? This is the first place they'll be looking for us," Rogue retorted.

"Not here. They don't know that we're heading for the mountains, since it's the most illogical direction to head when you're on the run. The swamps would be a way better route for criminals on the run. Now come on, or stay behind. I'm going in." Remy quickly walked through the thinning line of trees and entered the shabby hut. After a moment, Rogue sighed, then hurried after him.

Inside, the boy was taken aback by the intensity of the smell, a mixture of beer, fried fat and men that hadn't seen water for way too long. Strangely, Remy had the ability to blend in perfectly, presumably since he had grown up in locations like this, while he was mocked due to his young age.

LeBeau had already taken a seat at one of the rotten tables, a beer in front of him. The landlord's daughter just brought him a slice of bread and some meat, and Rogue could see him flirting with her. He strode towards the table, rudely pushing the young girl out of the way and sat down opposite of Remy.

"I'll take the same," he ordered and waved the girl away. Remy rolled his eyes, but made no comment. Obviously, he didn't think of it as a big loss.

Rogue eyed the jug sceptically. "Beer? Not the wisest choice in case we're spotted. I'm not eager to carry you when I have to run for my life."

"You won't have to, kid. These men to your left are woodcutters from nearby. Today's payday and they want to have some fun before they return to their dull lives. That old tramp there in the corner just wants to be left alone and the peasant buying beer will leave in the next five minutes anyway." Rogue was stunned. Remy had said all this without breaking eye contact with the boy. And now that he looked at it through different eyes, he saw the excellent choice that LeBeau had made with their table. He could see the whole room without drawing attention and he was close enough to the door to leave immediately, while he couldn't be spotted from the entrance instantly.

Remy grinned. "You may be able to survive in the woods, but I spent the better part of my life in places like this and I know what I do. And the beer, well, if we wouldn't drink, we'd draw attention. But believe me, I can drink more than that watery piss before I lose my .. ability .. to walk..."

But obviously he had lost his ability to speak because his voice trailed off as something else caught his attention and left him staring at the entrance.

A young woman had entered the pub, the hood of her cape barely covering her beautiful, delicate features and golden hair. Her panting let her breasts rise and fall in a fast rhythm. Her full lips opened to allow a tiny, rose-colored tongue lick over them nervously. And big breasts. Delicate fingers removed her cape and showed off a silken clad dream of a female figure. And big breasts. Rogue gulped and forced his eyes off the woman.

She instead, had already spotted their table and came towards them purposefully. Her decision was presumably made not only by the fact that Remy was the best-looking man in the pub, but also the one who seemed the least drunk.

"Excuse me, Mister, could you please tell me where I can find the local farrier," she asked in a smoky voice that would have fit better in a bedroom. "My horse started to limp and I am expected at home tonight."

"I'm sorry, Mylady," Remy answered, kissing her hand, his nonchalance not betraying if he was as impressed by her entrance as the the stunned drunks around him. "But this late in the evening, you will not find any help with your horse. But if you'd like to stay here over the night, I'll be happy to look after your horse myself in the first light of the morning."

Rogue couldn't help but roll his eyes. Give them a little female incentive and men forget all caution. And of course, the women fell for the unexpected charms.

"Oh, I could maybe stay a little, but I should really be at home tonight. My mother worries so easily, you see?" Her smile and the hungry look in her violet eyes spoke another language, but the nonverbal flirting was rudely interrupted by the landlord. Trying to be helpful to his beautiful customer, he offered that he'd send his daughter to bring the farrier.

"Oh, that is very sweet of you, sir. Maybe I could stay here at your table to wait?" she actually mangaged to never take her attention off Remy while speaking to the landlord. The young man offered her a seat and waved the landlord away.

With a sigh, Rogue stood up. "I have to pee." With a last glance towards the woman who looked at him condescendingly before returning her eyes to Remy, he left the hut.

Outside, Rogue slumped on the floor, leaning against the shaky wall of the hut. "When are you gonna tell him, girl," she asked herself. Her gaze fell to a puddle next to her and she looked at her reflection in the now rapidly fading light. Nothing she saw was in any way comparable to the features of the woman that now sat next to Remy, or at any of the other women she knew. It was almost too easy for her to pretend to be a boy, her face too angular, her figure skinny.

She hadn't really planned to enlighten Remy about her true gender, even though it became harder and harder to find excuses to disappear if she had to follow her body's needs. But when she had seen him with that personification of female, she had for the first time in her life envied another woman for her looks and the attention she got with them. Not that she'd want to win back Remy's attention, that had gotten on her nerves those last days anyways. That boy was so suspicious. She should be happy that finally something else occupied his mind. Yeah, great, she thought.

When Rogue reentered the pub, she was instantly greeted by the rich laughter of the blonde lady. Rolling her eyes, she went back to the table, but her seat was taken by the woman. Rogue grabbed her jug, careful to spill some of her beer over the blonde's forearm, but ignoring her indignant expression.

"I'll go sit at the bar," she told Remy, but he didn't even listen. Frowning, she made her way to the bar and tried her best to ignore the couple in her back. Surprisingly, the beer seemed to help with that, and even though Remy had called it 'watery piss', she started to feel it's effects. Dizzily, she looked at the ceiling and wondered about the woodwrok there. She liked that wood, it was dark and made her feel comfortable. If only it would stop moving.

Deciding that this was the ultimate sign that she should get some sleep, Rogue turned around, slowly, to tell Remy that she would do exactly that. But he wasn't there. The blonde was gone as well. For a moment, Rogue stared at the deserted table, not exactly sure what that was supposed to mean, until she felt hot anger rising in her. How DARED he? Their lives were at stake, being hunted by the soldiers, and this ibastard/i had nothing better to do than crawl into some aristocratic pants?

The anger cleared her head enough that she could get out of the pub and over to the stable without crashing into something. She could already hear a faint giggling from inside and already expected what she saw when opening the gates. The blonde lay in a pile of hay, he dress pushed up all the way to her hips to reveal slim, ivory legs. Remy leaned over her, only wearing his pants, kissing her nack while she caressed his bare chest.

"Please explain to me again why exactly we should stay low profile," Rogue demanded stridently, anger emanating from her almost visibly. A curse, and then his head was lifted from the hay with dissheveled hair and unusual eyes blazing with fury. Surprisingly, it was the woman who spoke first

"Such a pity. And here I thought I could have some fun before going to work." Confused, Remy turned around only to be faced with a vicious looking knife. "Don't take it personal," the blonde said with a sigh. "You were really fun." Her hand moved forward so quickly that rogue could only guess the motion, but Remy's uncanny reflexes kicked in and he somehow managed to evade the stab.

Obviously, the assassin wasn't used to failure. She scowled and jumped after him, but the thief had spent most of his young life on the street in fights like that: unequal and downright dirty. His experiences with knifings also came in handy now - he managed to evade every attack, while looking for a weapon, himself. The woman was to skilled with her knife that he would have dared to jump at her and try to take it away from her. He probably would have ended up dead had he tried.

But then, he was distracted from a strange sound at the next to the gates. He managed a quick look only to see Rogue vomiting on the floor. He returned his attention to his opponent only to see that she had been distracted by Rogue as well. He used the opportunity to hit her so hard that her head crashed into the stable's wall and she dropped, dead or unconcious, he couldn't tell.

Finally, Remy let go of the breath he had held all that time and hurried to Rogue's side, who had just stopped throwing up.

"Are you alright," he asked, not knowing whether he should be mad, relieved or amused at the boys interference. "Guess so," was the somewhat mumbled answer, and Remy shoved Rogue out of the stable.

"What are you doing," she moaned, one hand clutching her head, the other one cramped over her stomach. "Getting out of here fast before they find the lady in there. Or who do you think they're gonna believe?" Rogue tried to keep up with her companion's speed while also trying to keep the rest of her stomach's content where it belonged

"Geez, these children of yours really know how to do the good life style," Rogue commented cynically when they climbed over the sharp edges of the mountain where the child of fire was supposed to live. Remy sighed. Rogue hadn't stopped snapping at him since the incident with Belladonna - as she had introduced herself to Remy when they had been alone. But he probably deserved that for being so stupid. He used to be suspicious, even when a beautiful woman was concerned, but since he travelled with Rogue, he had relaxed his natural caution. And since when did he let his pants make his decisions? That wasn't like him at all! Must be his frustration with the events taking control of his life.

Just when he opened his mouth to reply, they were ambushed. soundlessly, the attackers were upon them, jumping of the branches of the few trees left in this height, leaving hideouts behind rocks or rising from the stone beneath them, shedding off the stone-imitating clothes they'd been covered with. Even though Remy was surprised that he hadn't noticed them, even in the twilight of the rising dawn, his uncanny reflexes saved him a second time that night and he whirled his staff around to fend off the attackers aproaching him from every site.

A quick glance to the left told him that Rogue was holding up as well, crouching in a fighting stance that reflected years of practice. The two would have probably been able to hold themselves for a while, had the floor beneath them not buckled suddenly, activating the hidden traps and leaving them hanging headlong from a tree. Their attackers lost no time tying them up nicely and carrying them off.

Rogue couldn't remember ever having been so mad. And everything was LeBeau's fault! If she hadn't still been fuming at his stupidity for endangering them both at the pub, and if she hadn't been still sick from the drinking - which was his fault as well, for sure, she just had to find a reason why - she would have noticed the hidden men. That was for sure. She tried to gain some furtive glances at their attackers to be able to judge their power and develop a plan. Knowledge was a weapon if used correctly, that was one of the first lessons her mother had taught her.

The men seemed istrange/i. At least they weren't soldiers, so she was kind of relieved, although she didn't know what she could expect from them. They were dressed in animal skins, though they covered their muscular, hairy bodies only slightly, and bore selfmade weapons of wood and stone. And they seemed somewhat primitive in their behaviour as well, they communicated by gestures and grunts, not using any language she had ever heard. The one in front of their little procession, an especially hairy and disgusting gnome, seemed to be their leader, for the other treated him with obvious respect.

There were about twenty of them, too many for her and LeBeau to take on since they knew how to use their weapons, and despite their primitive behaviour functioned better than any army she had ever seen. Also, it was getting hotter by the second, as they made their way into the heart of the mountain, and Rogue wasn't looking forward to a fight under circumstances that bothered her a lot but didn't seem to bother her opponents.

They stopped suddenly and tore her out of her thoughts when they had left the tunnel to enter a huge cave in the mountains inside. The heat was almost unbearable, although the cave's ceiling was so high that Rogue couldn't imagine a fire big enough to heat it up like that. But when the animal-men carrying her dropped her on the floor, she saw the source of the heat, and surely it was something she couldn't have imagined.

On a throne made of lava sat a flame in the shape of a woman. Rogue sqinted her eyes when they hurt after staring at the flame-woman too long. She was all red and orange, white in the center, with long, yellow legs ending in red feet. She couldn't discern a face in the flames, just an idea of slitted eyes that bore no soul. They had found the child of fire.

The Visioner stifled a yell when he looked at the woman in the throne. His sensitive eyes hurt badly from the intense light that the woman emanated. But he didn't dare close his eyes entirely, he needed to know what was going on there. The woman couldn't be anyone but the child of fire, so he needed to talk to her to make her realize that they were fighting on the same side. For now, though, he wasn't sure he would surive the next minute in this inferno.

Through slitted eyes, he saw the leader of his guards approach the throne and talk to the woman. He couldn't understand what he said, but he was too shocked at the view to concentrate on anything else. The man stood so close to the woman in the throne that his hair singed, his skin started to burn and finally fell off his bones. Yet, he didn't leave her side. Then, suddenly, the heat was gone, as was the light. It took him a moment to get used to the darkness until he could see her again. A little fire was still alight in the back of the throne and lit the cave enough for him to see.

The woman had changed completely. She now had the body of a regular - if extraordinary beautiful - woman, long red hair - with flames still licking in it - framing her face. A black cape that one of the animal men had provided covered her body.

"The Wolverine infromed me that you were bothered by the temperature and the light in my home, so I adjusted to your wellbeings." Her voice was sharp and unearthy. Remy knew that she talked about the leader of the animal men. He looked at him, but was surprised not to see a singed corpse, but him standing upright and his burns healing fast.

"Thank you," Remy said wryly and returned his attention to the child of fire. She seemed confused for a moment, as if not used to conversations that included politeness, however sarcastic, then continued. "You are the Visioner, we were aware of your approach, but you weren't alone, so you were attacked. Who is the girl travelling with you?"

"Girl?" Remy returned, bewildered, then looked around confusedly until his eyes fell on Rogue, who struggled against her captors angrily. Finally, he - ishe/i, Remy reminded himself - looked up and met his eyes defiantly. "You're a girl," Remy asked, his lips twitching with amusement.

"Gee, now I know why they picked you for that destiny crap. You're a regular genius!" In spite of her crippling sarcasm, Rogue had found it absolutely impossible to evade the persistent blush at his discovery.

"Ignore her," Remy said after turning towards the child of fire again, ignoring Rogue's howl of outrage. "She's just a little straggler I picked up along the way, completely harmless. I'm here for your hint." He wasn't comfortable around this one, feeling the endless hunger of her fire to consume and spread until nothing was left but a barren wasteland. Well, not all of them could be like Ororo, he mused.

The child of fire lifted one magnificently shaped eyebrow, but didn't comment his rush in any other way.

"I am Sheena, the child of fire, as you may have guessed. I bring you the cleansing truth of the eternal flame." Remy heard Rogue's 'D'uh' exclamation and could imagine her rolling her eyes. He suppressed his smirk and urged Sheena to go on.

"So, listen well, Visioner, for only the whole prophecy will allow you to set free the power of death among this world. And these are my hints for you:

It will come back In times of need To regain strength The heart must bleed

What it has lost It must refind It's powers back No longer blind."

"What kind of bullshit is that," Rogue grumbled incredulously from behind and Sheena's eyes narrowed, tiny flames shooting from the black orbs where her eyes should have been. "It is time for you to leave," she said to Remy, the coldness in her voice contradicting the heat of the volcano. Remy bowed to her curtly and then grabbed Rogue's arm, pulling her out of the cave again. He could feel the singe in his back when Sheena flamed up again.

"Ow," Rogue yelped and freed her arm when they finally saw sunlight again. She glared at him and rubbed her arm. "I really don't know why I put up with all this shit. But imagining that YOU would otherwise be on your own with saving the world..." she trailed off and stared at the entrance of the cave again, frowning. "Are all those elemental chicks that prissy?"

Remy assessed her rigid form, still not able to believe thant under all this dirt and attitude, there should be a girl hidden. It was gonna be a long journey indeed. 


End file.
